


Quick in the Corner

by odietamo53



Series: Drabbles [2]
Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Dirty Talk, M/M, Semi-Public Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-27
Updated: 2013-10-27
Packaged: 2017-12-30 16:37:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,278
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1020969
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/odietamo53/pseuds/odietamo53
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Louis figures sending Liam dirty texts during an interview isn't necessarily a <i>bad</i> idea.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Quick in the Corner

The first time it happens he shoves his phone under the table like everyone in the room can see it and looks wide eyed up at the interviewer, because of course she’s just asked him a question that he didn’t hear a word of. He apologizes and asks her to repeat the question, but it comes out a slurred jumble of words that make no sense and Niall’s laughing while Harry jumps in with some long explanation of how Liam actually didn’t sleep last night and someone stole his corn flakes this morning so he’s not all there today. Liam’s thankful some of his friends are there for him, since one is single mindedly trying to spell out his doom. 

He glances down at his phone screen one more time just to make sure he read it right. _Gonna blow you in the bathroom. 10 minutes left._ Liam flips his phone over and tucks it under his right thigh, like he could hide it from his mind. 

It begins to vibrate, rattling nosily against the wood of the chair and he wants to sink into the floor. Zayn pokes him hard in the side and shoots him a look, like he’s had to take over responsibility for reprimanding bad behavior since Liam is apparently the main trouble maker right now. 

_8 minutes. Want to swallow your cum._ REALLY? Liam looks over at his bandmate, seated at the other end of the table, smiling sweetly at the interviewer like he’s not working his filthy mind to its limit. If it had one. 

Liam’s hard. He hasn’t been hard in public since he was a teenager going through puberty. He’s embarrassed for so many reasons the first of which being the blush creeping steadily across his face. And when he squirms uncomfortably, Zayn looks over, notices, and grins madly, like it’s just the greatest joke to ever come out of their time together. He wants to punch him in the arm. 

_4 minutes. Pull my hair._

Next time his phone vibrates he’s just not going to check it. Nope. He really doesn’t have a death wish. 

He wants to shoot Louis a nasty look because screw him, but Louis is typing away on his phone and, oh god, Harry is watching over his shoulder, grinning. This is too much. 

_3 minutes. I’m hard. Want you so bad._ Why did he look? He said he wouldn’t and his body betrayed him, checking the screen on reflex. 

The interviewer announces the last question and Liam knows he should provide some kind of response because he’s gone utterly silent for the last ten minutes, but fully formed English words are not within his mental capacity so he settles for attempting a smile.

“It can be a hard life sometimes,” Zayn is saying next to him, “right Liam?” The dark haired boy has a hand clamped on his shoulder and his eyes are sparkling. Fuck him. But Liam manages a nod while covertly adjusting his ever tightening crotch.

 _1 minute. Going to get on my knees for you. Going to come in my pants just from sucking you off._ Yeah, he checked that one on purpose, because the waiting is over. The interviewer shakes their hands before leaving and Liam can stand without showing her just how happy he was to be there.

He darts around the table to grab Louis’ hand and no one stops him. Liam drags the cackling boy just down the hall and pushes at the bathroom door but it doesn’t budge. “What the-?” he mutters, shoving at it harder than necessary.

“Occupied!”

 _Fuck._ He’s so hard he wants to cry. So he keeps walking, dragging Louis until they’re in some old part of the building that obviously sees very little use and shoves him into a little alcove that probably held a drinking fountain. 

Louis’ not smiling anymore because jokes over, they’re hard and need some friction before they’re coming in their pants like children. Liam’s pushing him against the wall hard, holding him up with his chest while he bites and sucks at Louis’ lips, trying to get as close as possible. 

“Gonna suck you,” Louis breathes into his ear and he wants that, but he needs more.

“No,” Liam mouths against his neck, hands already yanking at Louis’ belt, getting a few fingers into his tight trousers to stroke at him ineffectively. It’s dirty and rough and this wall is not clean but Liam’s hitching Louis’ legs up around his waist, holding him up with his body weight and pulling at those irritating red pants until they’re bunched under Louis’ knees and he can cup that perfect ass.

They can’t carry lube around with them, as ideal as that would be, the chances someone would notice the shape of the tube in their pants pocket, or, heaven forbid, it fall out, just no. But Liam keeps a small tin of Vaseline, chapped lips he says, and he does keep one for that, makes sure to keep the two tins separate.

Liam’s pants are around his ankles and he’s not sure exactly when that happened, but he’s got two fingers in Louis’ tight heat so it doesn’t even matter. “Now, now, nowpleasenow,” Louis is chanting into his ear, bucking awkwardly on his fingers and he knows they’re going to regret it in a few hours when Louis can’t quite sit comfortably, but he needs this. 

He takes it as slow as he can, pushing in bit by bit, pressing his face into Louis neck so he can breathe deep the smell of him and try not to buck forward. There are hands in his hair, on his ass, nails digging in, teeth scraping his temple, cheek, jaw.

And he’s there. Hips pressed flush to Louis’ ass, sobbing out a cry of relief and grabbing Louis face to kiss him hard, so their teeth click together and tongues tangle obscenely. Louis is saying _please_ and _Li_ and _fuckfuckshitohgod_ and it’s so hot Liam’s hips stutter on their own accord.

They can’t really stop then, Liam pulling back so he can pound into him so hard Louis’ back might bruise tomorrow. He wants to last, draw this out because they’re needy and sweat is building up between his shoulder blades, and his muscles are ready to go, could hold Louis here for hours. They’re far from hidden though. Right out in the open really. They’re making plenty of noise too, Liam feels he may not be a great judge of this because Louis is whimpering and cursing right into his ear but someone could definitely hear them if they walked close enough.

His worries are short lived as Louis tightens around him, crying out because it’s just _so much._ And Liam comes too, inhaling sharply the scent of sex and sweat and Louis.

They come down slowly, Liam pushing back the wet hair clinging to Louis’ forehead and places a kiss to the flushed skin. It was rushed and cramped and they fucked harder than they should have, but that one small kiss is enough to make up for it all.

“’Ey! Children! Get your arses out here!” The voice is followed by a loud thump and Liam glances out of their little alcove. Niall is weaving around in the hallway, both eyes covered as he calls for them, bumping into a wall and changing direction until he hits the next one. It’s stupid and, god, how long had Niall been wandering around like that. But Liam smiles as he tells Niall he’s going to kill himself and to stop walking. But to keep his eyes covered for a minute.


End file.
